


Dominate Person is Never Really A Good Time

by jephanie



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Possession, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jephanie/pseuds/jephanie
Summary: The title kind of sums it up. Some angst, some implied Molly/Caleb, but painfully little physical contact. probably done, but may write a companion later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nasty spell starts a fire within the group.

The witch laughed as she dodged Molly’s swords, even though one of her eyes was clouded over with inky blackness and blood trickled from her eye to her cheek. He screamed in Infernal at her, and swung out with a glowing scimitar, but her form collapsed in a flash of purple energy, and the sword hissed through where her midsection would’ve been.

Molly swore and whirled, seeing the battlefield before him. Nott, crouched behind a nearby pillar with Caleb, the two of them ducking as arrows and spells flashed past them, taking whatever opportunity they could to fire back. Jester- no, her duplicate- dancing around and leading a train of undead away from the real Jester, whose divine energy was causing even more to crumble in a dazzling array of light as. A giant lollipop swung wildly around her, keeping the zombies from getting too close to Nott and Caleb. Fjord and Beau, taking on the huge armored undead fiend, yelled commands at each other and moved fluidly in combat harmony.  He panted, not seeing there the witch had gone, eyes whirling in their sockets, until-

An identical flash appeared behind Caleb and Nott. As time seemed to slow down, Molly saw Caleb stiffen, and kick wildly at Nott, sending her skidding toward Molly. His blue eyes met Molly’s, and started to yell something at Nott. The witch laid a slender hand on his shoulder and whispered- gently, seductively, smiling- in his ear.

The purple light flashed again, and she was gone.

Caleb shook slightly where he stood, a dazed look on his face. Nott lay sprawled on the ground, meters away from where she stood with Caleb, confused. Her spindly green limbs, wrapped in their dirty bandages, scrambled to help her get up. In the background, Fjord and Beau grunted as falchion and fist landed on the fiend, but it still stood.

A delighted cheer echoed off the stone walls.  “Look at how powerful I am you guys!” Jester and her duplicate hopped excitedly around the simple zombies, which seemed to have dropped to the floor. “I _totally_ did all of this by myself-“

As she spoke, Molly’s body moved on its own when he saw Caleb’s fingers twitch and begin to darken. He threw himself on top of Nott, already on the ground, as the room suddenly filled with blistering heat- but not unbearable, Molly noted, as he realized that he was not on fire. They were not the target. He let himself look up, feeling Nott squirming beneath him, heart pounding in his chest. Caleb stood stoically which an unearthly sort of ease, his arm outstretched toward Jester. Jester was no longer dancing, and her duplicated flickered and disappeared as she crumpled to the ground, covered in ash.

Molly screamed Fjord’s name. The half-orc stopped the fiend’s greatsword with his falchion, ocean mist spraying from it like waves crashing on rocks. He pressed against it, turning. Molly saw the veins on his neck bulging from the strain, and blood trickled down one of his shoulders.

“Have Beau lure that away! We’ve got a bigger problem!” Molly yelled.

“I highly doubt that!” Fjord answered, teeth gritted. “This one here’s pretty huge already-“ He was interrupted by a fiery explosion landing just short of him, although the power of the blast was enough to knock him, Beau, and the undead fiend to the ground. The flames flickered away, revealing the three figure to be relatively unharmed by the fireball.

“What the fuck, Caleb?” Beau yelled, annoyed. As she scrambled to her feet, her eyes widened at the sight of Caleb’s charred hand still pointing at her, billowing black smoke.

“Beau!” Fjord grunted, and Beau yelped in agreement. She bound closer to the undead fiend, fists raised to her face in a boxer’s pose.

Nodding to Fjord, she kicked the fiend in the groin, causing in to roar in defiance. “Come on asshole! Wanna dance?” The fiend clambered to its feet as Beau gave it a couple of light taps, leading it away from the rest of the group. “Come on, you dumb fuck!”

Sparks beginning to flutter up from Caleb’s hand as it was still pointed at Fjord, and Molly instinctively thrust out one of his swords to point at him. He tasted blood in his mouth as the Infernal ripped across his tongue. “ _Look this way, you Zimmnean bastard!”_

Caleb’s head whipped toward the noise, but he stumbled to one knee, sputtering. His eyes turned toward Molly. What had once been a bright, clear blue were now bright burning embers, shining red through his eyelids. Ash streaked his thin face, stark lines of red blood snaking down from each tear duct.

Molly coughed, spitting blood, and then felt a piercing pain in his thigh. He looked down to see Nott clutching the handle of the dagger, snarling up at him desperately. “Stop it!” she screeched, pulling the knife out and preparing to stab again. “You’re hurting him!”

Molly swiftly brought his knee up, and Nott yelped as it connected with her chin. As she stumbled back, Molly lunged and scooped her up, feeling tongues of flame caress the back of his neck as another fireball flew high. Nott kicked and struggled in his grasp, and he held on tight as he ran with her behind another pillar, away from the wizard. Guarded by the stone, he held Nott close to his chest.

“That’s not him, Nott.” He squeezed her more tightly and pressed his lips against her ear. She stopped struggling a little. “That’s not him, and you need to stay here. You know what he can do.” Nott began to reply, but he let go, kissing her quickly on the head, and darted back into the fray. He had to shield his face with his hands as Fjord intercepted a fireball with his blade, erupting into heavy steam that stung in his wounds.

“ _Caleb!”_ Fjord roared, his voice going deep. There was something about his voice that changed slightly. The half-orc’s anger flared, but remained somehow contained and calm as Caleb failed to respond. There was grave determination in his eyes, and his knuckled shown white through his dark skin as he clutched the barnacled handle of the falchion. There was conflict in him, Molly noted- a force of regret being overpowered by a looming responsibility.

                Molly flanked the wizard and tapped the side of his head with the flat side of a scimitar, drawing his attention. The head turned with eyes focused on him, still glowing white-hot, but his face was devoid of all emotion. Those hands- glowing red ember beginning to crack and glow through the charred skin- raised toward him now, but Molly let his swords dance around them, batting them away, only leaving small cuts. Caleb pulled back, calculating.

“Go help Jester!” Molly yelled. The glow from Caleb’s eyes and hands glittered on his blades as they spun. “She got hit!”

Fjord’s focus flickered, eyes widening, and he turned to sprint toward where Jester lay. Caleb swung out an arm at the opportunity, but it was stopped by a scimitar, slicing at tendons and causing it to fall limply to the side. Blood hissed and bubbled as it dripped off his fingertips. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fjord cradle Jester’s head as one hand rummaged through hit pockets to search for a potion.

“Caleb,” Molly said carefully, taking a small step back. The wizard stood before him. The ends of his reddish hair slowly began to curl and darken. He made no move to raise his good arm, instead staring blankly with his ember eyes. Molly raised his swords in a defensive stance. “Come on, friend. You’re hurting yourself.” The light did not fade, but the wizard’s chapped lips quivered as if to say something. Molly looked down just in time to see Caleb’s fingers finishing some kind of spell. “Oh, shit-“

The swords suddenly flared white-hot, and Molly dropped them reflexively as the heat seemed to bore through his fingers. There was a moment when Caleb’s hand began to raise again, ash rising from the fingers in flakes- when Molly darted forward and embraced him.

He pinned the wizards arms to his sides tightly with his own, their cheeks pressed together. He could feel the heat through his clothes, and Molly wrapped himself around him tighter, his tail winding around Caleb’s thighs. His sleeve began to dampen as Caleb’s blood seeped into his cloak where the scimitar had cut him.

“ _Caleb,”_ Molly whispered in Zimmnean, his lips flickering against his ear, brushing against dirty red hair. “ _Caleb, this isn’t you. Cut it out.”_ A great shudder went through Caleb’s body.

 _“This isn’t what you want to be. We’re waiting for you. Come back.”_ A shiver of relief went down Molly’s spine as he felt Caleb’s arms wrap around him in turn, his hands pressed against his hip and the small of his back. The grip tightened. Molly sighed. “That’s it Caleb, you’re okay-“

He gasped from a sudden, overwhelming pain in his back. Caleb’s burning hands lay flat upon him, cooking his flesh. He gasped, trying to break free, but the wizard pulled him closer with uncharacteristic strength. Molly cried out. His hands fumbled for his pockets and belt to find a weapon of any kind. He smelled his skin burning, felt his body begin to weaken, heard his voice being ripped from his throat in a scream.

Then Caleb’s body jerked suddenly, and the heat was gone.

Molly pulled his head back just in time to see the glow fade and sky-blue eyes return before they rolled back into Caleb’s head. The wizard, still entangled with Molly, began to fall limp and Molly guided the both of them to their knees.

Molly coughed, “That’s it, relax now.” Caleb’s head fell limply onto Molly’s shoulder, the burning hands dangling limply at his sides. Molly raised an arm to pat his back calmingly, and his hand felt a cool metal crossbow bolt.

Nott stood before them, crossbow raised with a shaking hand, as tears streamed down her little face.

They staying in those positions for a good moment, speechless, until a large thud sounded throughout the crypt.

“Ugh,” they heard Beau groan. “Do I have to do _all_ the work around here?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb's out of it, and not very happy. Molly plays mom for the group.

The Nein were usually quiet at the tavern that night.

They had traveled back with the cart and horses. Nott led the horses, Fjord kept watch riding ahead on his own horse, while Beau, Molly, and Jester tended to wounds the best they could. Caleb lay unconscious, his head cushioned by Molly’s coat. Jester had run out of spells, and the three of them made an awkward chain: Jester dazedly wrapped Caleb’s hands and fingers, trying to cover the burns that she didn’t have energy to heal yet, although she had stopped the bolt hole’s bleeding; Molly applied salve and applied bandages to Jesters shoulders and abdomen; Beau gently cleaned the blistered handprints on Molly’s back. It was silent except for when Molly hissed in breaths as Beau worked, and for the occasional huff of one of the horses.

It had been long dark when they arrived back at The Rare Brew, and it took three of them to help carry Caleb up the narrow staircase into his room and onto his bed. Nott curled up at the foot of the bed near his feet. Beau and Jester retreated to their room as well so Beau could continue working on the burns that covered Jester’s chest in privacy.

This lead to Molly and Fjord sitting at a table, sipping whiskeys silently as they listened to an old, fat dwarf snoring from corner booth and two elves whispering to each other from a few tables away, eying them. Molly tried to lean back in his chair casually, and swore as his shirt stuck to the raw, inflamed skin on his back. He sighed and instead leaned forward on the table with his elbows. Fjord’s brow was furrowed as he sipped his whiskey.

“That was a pretty close one,” Molly mentioned, breaking the silence.

Fjord jumped slightly, not expecting a conversation, but relaxed his shoulders and sighed. “Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment, and then asked, “What did they do to him? I’ve never seen that kind of magic before.”

Molly shrugged. “Not really sure, I think it was some kind of Dominate Person spell. Which is a shame because I thought you or me would be the first to dominate Caleb.” He grinned as Fjord choked on drink and his skin flushed blue. His smile dropped little as he admitted, “But yeah. In a bit over of our heads, we were there. We should’ve waited.”

Fjord regained his composure, and leaned forward, exhausted. He looked defeated. “I was ready…” His voice trailed off. His eyes met Molly’s, and he sighed deeply again. “I would’ve tried to hurt him. I could’ve tried to kill him.” He paused again, and looked down at the table. His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Thank you for making me help Jester instead.”

Molly’s memory flashed back to Fjord’s face back then, determined yet sorrowful as he raised his blade against Caleb’s flames. “You were just trying to help the group,” Molly replied, taking a sip of whiskey.

“I guess so.” He rubbed his face with a hand. “I just don’t know what I would do if he’d have-“

Molly waved a purple hand in front of his face. “Don’t think about it.” He threw down the rest of his whiskey. “It’s over now, and everything will be alright. Don’t think about it too much.” Fjord didn’t respond, still staring at the table. Molly laid a hand on his head gently. “Just finish your drink and make sure to get some sleep, okay?”

Molly didn’t wait for a response and began making his way up the stairs, but stopped when he noticed his hand shaking as it gripped the railing.

As Fjord had been talking, Molly’s mind had drifted to Yasha. She had left mysteriously the previous morning, but Molly’s mind ran rampant with possibilities. The purple light appearing behind the barbarian and her mismatched eyes fogging over. The greatsword swinging silently, unrelentingly as spells and blows bounced off her. Her hands, her sword, her face, dripping with blood. Calm, unstoppable. And then her scream as the spell wore off, leaving her with what she had done.

Molly shook his head violently, letting his hand clench around the railing. Yasha was not there. They would find a way to keep that from ever happening.

He made his way to his room and did his rituals over his swords, making sure they were wrapped neatly. He folded his coat into a nice bundle, stole a blanket from the bed, and laid down on the floor to sleep.

There was laughing next door. That is Beau and Jester’s room, he remembered. He laid with his eyes closed for a few minutes, and decided sleep was not going to come anytime soon. He got up, and went to enter the next room.

Before he finished turning the knob, he heard a voice from inside. “Go away, this is girl time! We’re all naked!”

Molly opened the door just enough poke his nose through. “You know I’ve seen everything, and I’m not exactly shy.”

He heard Beau groan, but Jester laughed, saying, “He’s right, it was his idea to get us all naked together in the first place.” Molly took that as acceptance and entered. They were not in fact naked. Beau lay on her back on the floor, a hand raised as she tried to balance her stick on a fingertip. She was quite good- good enough to toss it up with a tiny flick and catch it again perfectly balanced on another finger. Jester lay cross legged on the bed, bandages poking out from underneath her nightshirt while- to Molly’s surprise- Nott kneeled behind her, messing with her blue hair with long green fingers.

Jester grinned at him. “I’m teaching her how to braid hair!”

“More like teaching her how to live up to her name,” Beau grumbled.

Molly grinned. “Nott, knot?” He was answered by finger guns.

“You just said my name twice,” Nott mused, focusing on the strands of hair. “I think I’m really getting the hang of it, Jester!”

Jester clapped her hands together, bouncing slightly on the bed. Molly leaned in to look at the handiwork- it looked like a small bird had made a nest on the tiefling’s scalp. 

                “Nott, I though you usually shared a room with Caleb,” Molly said, sitting and laying back in the bed. “Sleepovers don’t really seem like your thing, but if this is one, I would be happy to join.”

                Beau groaned from the floor and Nott’s cheeks turned a darker green. “I thought it would be better if I stayed in here for the night,” she said quietly.

Jester’s grin flickered with concern, but she reached an arm behind her and patted Nott on the top of the head. “You are always welcome for _girl’s_ night!”

                “First of all, rude to not invite _me_. Second- Nott, is Caleb awake?” Molly inquired.

                The goblin’s yellow eyes looked away, worried. “Yes,” she said after a pause. “But I think he just wants to be alone for a little while.”

                “Is the silver thread up?” he asked, quietly.

                Nott nodded. “I don’t think he really wants to talk though.”

                “That’s fine.” Molly got up from the bed and started for Caleb’s room. “I think being alone is the last thing that man needs.”

                It was quiet outside Caleb’s door. Molly knocked in what he hoped was a friendly-sounding rhythm. There was no answer. “Caleb, it’s me. Don’t freak out, I’m coming in.” He turned the knob slowly. “Coming in now.”

                There was no light in the room, and at first sight he thought it was empty. Then the light from the hallway reflected on Caleb’s unruly auburn hair from the other side of the bed. Molly closed the door behind him carefully, and walked around the bed toward the wizard.

                Caleb sat with his back against the bed, head hung. Locks of hair concealed his face. His legs were propped up, arms resting on them. Stained bandages lay wilted on the ground beneath his legs, and his hands hung limply. They were bright pink and blistered, the fingers stiff and quivering.

                Molly held his breath. “Does Nott have any extra bandages?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

                Caleb gave what could’ve been the slightest nod. Molly scanned the room until he saw the corner of a small satchel sticking out from the corner of the mattress. He tugged it out gently and pawed through buttons, coins, and small pieces of jewelry until he felt a soft roll of gauze. Making sure to put the satchel back in the same exact place, he sat down across from Caleb and gingerly took one of his hands and put in on his own lap, slowly and gently covered the ruined flesh with clean fabric.

                “Jester’s okay. She’s teaching Nott to braid hair,” Molly said, carefully winding the bandage around a finger. “She’s going to finish fixing you up tomorrow morning when she can.” Caleb, not looking up, shook his head.

“Beau’s getting pretty good and fixing people up, too,” Molly continued. “She’s not as gentle as Jester. She doesn’t give you pastries either.”

Caleb remained still and silent. Molly laid the wizard’s hand in his lap, and laid a purple hand against his face, brushing hair away with the other. Caleb began to pull away, but Molly lifted his chin and held his face with a hand on each cheek. “Caleb.”

His eyes were their normal blue, but dull and lifeless, sunken in their sockets. He didn’t make eye contact, but at least that was normal. There was still a smear of ash on one of his temples, so Molly brushed it away with a thumb.

“That was a nasty thing they did to you.” Caleb’s expression didn’t change. “That wasn’t the first time you’ve experienced that, was it?” Caleb’s lips moved minimally to say “no”, but no sound came out. Molly stroked his hair, brushing it away from his face again. “You know there was nothing you could have done. That wasn’t you anymore. It’s not your fault.” Caleb didn’t move. Molly returned to bandaging his burned hands. After a good fifteen minutes, Caleb spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I used to think I was helping people when I was…” There was a long pause. “When I was like that.” Molly didn’t reply, knowing that Caleb seemed to be opening a dam. If he spoke, the dam would shut again and that would be that. “Then I knew that I wasn’t. So I stopped trying to help people.” Molly continued bandaging, biting his tongue.

“And then I met Nott,” Caleb continued, his voice still barely audible, but picking up in speed. “And I knew that I needed to help her. And I met you lot, and I thought I could help other people again, if I was with everyone…” His voice cracked. “I’m just turning back into what I was.”

Molly suddenly felt a deep emptiness in his chest. He didn’t know exactly _what_ Caleb was afraid of being, but there were clues. His catatonic state after the gnoll fight. The nights he woke up screaming. His self-sacrificial bond with Nott. Added to that now: his burnt hands, glowing eyes, flecks of ash rising from him with the smell of smoke as he calmly raised hand and sent death flying without a flicker of emotion. That was not the man they knew now, but what if it was the man that he once was?

                “You all are better off without me.” His voice was less frantic now, resuming its usually calculated, thought-out tone, but his eyes still stared off to some distant point. “You will be safer, it is only a matter of-“

                Without thinking, Molly slapped him mid-sentence. Silence.

“I would appreciate if you stopped hitting me,” Caleb, finally making eye contact.

“If you really wanted to leave you would have done it by now.”

Caleb blinked. Molly continued, his voice getting more rushed and annoyed as he spoke. “I know that’s what you and Nott talk about all the time. Every chance you get I see you want to leave. You and Nott could easily slip away when we’re not looking. Why are you still here?” Absentmindedly, Molly picked up Caleb’s other hand and began wrapping it as well. Caleb’s eyes began to flicker slightly back and forth as he became more uncomfortable, but they remained on Molly’s face. “I know it’s not just for the money, there’s some other reason why you decide to stick around, even though you act like you hate all of us.”

Caleb took in a breath with a hiss as Molly wrapped a burned finger slightly too tightly. Molly winced and redid his work more carefully. “I’m sorry,” he added quietly.

“It’s fine.”

Molly worked in silence for a few minutes more. He finished and gathered Caleb’s hands in his lap, now neatly bandaged in crisp white gauze.

“Do you really think so little of yourself?” Molly whispered. Caleb did not answer.

Another long pause.

“If you came in here to make me feel better, you are really bad at it,” Caleb mumbled.

Molly sighed. “I don’t really know what I came in here to do.” He thought for a moment, chuckled. “See if you’re okay, really, but everyone knows you’re pretty fucked up, so I don’t know what I was expected.” Caleb’s mouth twitched into a tiny, maybe-half smile. “We’ll just have to keep on working on that, wont we?”

Caleb nodded. “I scared Nott away, didn’t I?”

“I don’t think you could scare Nott even if you tried, it’s in her name. She just knows you better than the rest of us, and knew you needed some space.”

“You’re really bad at that, too.”

“Please, I wouldn’t know personal space if it dressed up like Fjord and did a jig.” He moved to get up. “I’ll give you some now, though, you need to sleep. Then Jester can fix you up in the morning.”

Caleb made a sound in his throat, giving Molly pause.

“Nott usually wakes me up when… ah…” He pressed his lips together. “It might be a rough night and I don’t want to wake up the entire inn.”

Molly blinked a couple of times, trying to process the very Caleb-esque request for him to stay in the room for the night. “Alright,” he said slowly, and his face spread into a grin as he opened his mouth to say-

“Don’t be weird,” Caleb interjected suddenly. His face was slightly pinker than usual. “And please don’t touch me.”

Molly laughed. “My friend, those are my two greatest attributes. But for you, I’ll try.”


	3. wakey wakey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some wrap up. v short.

Molly failed part of that request, but it wasn’t his fault. He had initially laid down to sleep on the floor as he usually did, but after a few hours he was awakened by Caleb talking in his sleep in Zimmnean and thrashing. While Molly could speak some of the language, it was too incoherent to make out, the accent a little too strong for his understanding. He scrambled back up onto the bed and shook Caleb awake. There was just a flicker of apology in those blue eyes until sleep took him again, quietly this time.

Sleep apparently took Molly too. His dreams were flooded with flashes of blood and the silver shine of sword as shadowy figures moved about, their faces blurred, yelling incomprehensibly in infernal.

He woke with a gasp, which resulted in a mouthful of red wavy hair. Blinking and becoming aware of his position, Molly found himself curled around Caleb, once again embracing him. Caleb was seemingly deep asleep and light was beginning to peek out from the curtains. Molly moved slowly and quietly as he removed himself from the bed, cursing silently as he pulled his arm from underneath Caleb’s side. The wizard did not give any signal that he was awake. His breaths were slow, deep, and even.

Molly closed the door behind him, careful to prevent it from creaking. Then he turned to go back to his own room to gather his things, and found himself face-to-face with Beau.

Her eyes shifted from Molly to the door and back to Molly, a wry little smile creeping onto her face. She didn’t say anything, but winked as she brushed past him down to the tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry. tried to add more but it wasn't coming.  
> although i may write a flipped scenario at some point, where it happens to molly :)


End file.
